Guardian Angel
by sarhea
Summary: Ever wondered just how Batman survived so many years with no superpowers in a city like Gotham? What if he had a Guardian Angel… A Protector and Friend named Hermione Granger. COMPLETE : Hermione Granger Bruce Wayne : AR Harry Potter, cartoon JLU
1. A Trap Sprung

**Author's Notes**: Written for 2009 Hermione Big Bang Challenge. The plot moves fast and there are several time jumps where backstory is filled via flash backs or character thoughts.

**Canon**: Through DH not Epilogue compliant. Harry's vision is just a dream.

Summary: A few of the JL heroes are introduced to a Guardian Angel looking after one of their own and they find more about one of their more tight lipped members.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and co, J.K. Rowling does. I do not own Batman and co or Justice League, Bob Kane, DC Comics and Warner Bros do.

AN: I'm starting in the middle, during a fight with the latest League villain/enemy. The back story will come in the next chapter.

AN: I've used one of the Green Lanterns weakness from the comics, yellow… in this particular story a metal called iridium. In real life iridium is silvery-white.

AN: Batman might be OOC.

* * *

**...ooO A Trap Sprung Ooo...**

Wonder Woman struggled against the stretchy goo binding her movements, but she could not generate enough momentum to break free. Frantically she looked around at her allies—all of them were in similarly untenable situations. The mission had been a plot designed to lure the Justice League into a labyrinth; one that separated them – the core of the league – from their companions.

Superman was taken out by kryptonite-infused chains. Green Lantern by yellow-tinged iridium metal. Hawkgirl by a goo that coated her wings and refused to come off. Flash was running in a loop, unable to stop or redirect himself. Batman was in the worst condition; their unknown enemy had used some sort of energy attack that penetrated the titanium weave material of his suit and tore open wounds. Subsequent blasts aggravated the open wounds and had him writhing in agony, muscles spasming and unable to function. If they had even suspected the target used magic they would have waited for Zatanna or Fate.

The maniac giggled and leered.

"What would everyone think to see their oh-so-precious superheroes in the dirt just like any other mere mortal? For so long all of you sneered at the Art of Magick, all of you laughed when I tried to tell you the true power of magic! Now look! I've done what all the armies, super villains, and metas have failed to do: Captured six of the seven Justice League founders. I believe discerning gentlemen and governments would be most interested in participating in auctions for my services. I do wonder if the winner of my first contract would be from the private sector... Certain businessmen are Not impressed with your nosy interference in their personal affairs."

He stalked over towards Batman and sneered. "You will fetch a hefty bounty. The bidding war in Gotham would be quite lively."

Batman forced his eyes to open despite the agonizing sensitivity of his hyper-sensitized nerves. Distantly he wondered if this was what She had felt during her captivity.

"What do you have to say for yourself Batman? Any last words?"

"You talk too much warlock." A cool, throaty voice broke the adrenaline charged artificial calm with clipped British accented words.

Everyone turned to stare at the intruder emerging from an unnatural fog. A young woman no more than twenty, probably younger from the school uniform she wore. A knee-length red and grey plaid skirt matched with a white blouse and grey sleeveless monogrammed jumper. The jarring notes were the knee-high black boots she wore instead of regulation socks and shoes. Her hair flowed in wild honey brown and chocolate streaked curls almost to her waist, unrestrained by pins or ties. Her face was a smooth oval with a straight, narrow nose, full lush mouth, and faintly clefted chin. Her eyes were bronze, gold-flecked hazel set under high slightly winged brows. The oddest thing about her appearance was that it was translucent, seen through like a hologram. Or a ghost.

The warlock sneered. "You are a ghost. You cannot do anything. Be gone from my ground."

The woman-girl smiled faintly. "You are mistaken warlock. Ghosts are spirits bound to a place due to unfinished business. They pass into the Light upon settling their affairs." The faint smile sharpened and darkened. "I am something else altogether. Now I repeat my words warlock. You are mistaken. Mistaken to believe you can banish me from your territory. Mistaken to believe I cannot cross the Barriers between Realms to protect my Charge."

The warlock panicked. He had not planned for This. "You can't do that! Your Charge cannot be one of Them!" He waved at the League heroes behind him. "None of them are practitioners of the Art."

The woman-girl laughed. "Anyone worthy can have a Guardian; but few have one strong enough to manifest in their presence. It is almost unheard of for a Guardian to Cross the Barriers and be seen by Others." Then she smiled broadly. "How unfortunate for you, Edwyn Haelfer, that I am one of those Guardians."

Then she lunged forward.

Edwyn Haelfer shrieked and screamed. "Stop her! Stop her before she materializes fully!"

The muscled thugs stared, confused. "But Boss, she's just a ghost!"

"She is a Guardian!"

With each movement, she became more and more solid. The wind whipped through her skirts and hair. Small static charges ran through her hair and over her skin materializing in small lightning bolts discharging from her fingertips. She shook her right hand and a slim shaft of wood fell from a forearm holster into her waiting fingers. With her other hand, she reached behind herself, touching the small of her back under the jumper. When her left hand withdrew, she held a foot long blade pulled from the spinal sheath it rested. Before their eyes, the blade lengthened and thinned until it resembled a foil, a fencer's blade.

She switched wand and blade hands smoothly, seamlessly, and saluted, blade before her, wand arm curved above her head.

The thugs glanced at each other and charged. One of them should be able to take her out if they attacked at the same time.

"Incendio." The blade burst into flames.

Before the thugs could retreat from the new threat, she darted forward. She danced between her opponents, her burning metal blade cutting through air and flesh with equal ease.

The League heroes watched with fascination and horror as the Guardian worked through the thugs with practical ruthlessness. She cut tendons and lopped off limbs of the more aggressive. The flaming blade cauterized the wounds reducing the chance of blood-loss or infection but very permanently ending the chance of full recovery. No surgeon could grow tendon burned and charred to a shorter length.

When it became clear she was not interested in knock-outs, the minions fled leaving the warlock to face her.

It quickly became evident he was an amateur magic user next to Her. She had him bound in a cocoon of conjured rope and suspended in mid air in an instant.

The Guardian forced the warlock's eyes to meet hers. "I need information and you are going to give it to me." Her eyes narrowed and her left wrist made a deft motion swishing the wooden wand into a specific pattern. "Legilimens." Her eyes went very wide and her mouth curled into an expression of distaste.

"Demons? You bargained with demons for magic? How utterly pathetic." Her full lips curled into a sly grin. "How unfortunate none of them bothered to inform you about a particular weakness of such gifts. It can be wrested away by a stronger and more skilled practitioner." Her eyes glinted gold and her full lips curved into a pleased smile. "They called me the best of my generation for a very good reason."

The flames on the fencer's blade went out and the blade itself shrank until it resembled an oversized knife. She used it to carve specific runes on the warlock's cheeks and forehead despite his attempts to squirm away. When she was done, she thrust the blade through her skirt waistband. As the blood ran down his face, she spoke in a low guttural tongue. The air grew hot as a faint purple haze formed around the symbols. The haze became increasingly iridescent until it detached and fell into Her waiting hand as three ping pong-sized, glowing balls. Absently she closed her fingers around the small globes, crushing them in her grip until they burst, crackling purple lightening dancing over her fist and lower arm before dissipating and fading.

She raised the hand holding the wand up and spoke one word clearly. "Obliviate."

He sagged like a broken doll. She turned on one heel and walked. She walked between the crying, groaning, unconscious thugs. She walked past superheroes without pausing to help them break free. Her entire focus was on just one— her Charge. Quick strides took her to Batman.

Everyone could see her barely suppressed rage and fear as she cast some unknown spell upon the Dark Knight. It generated a light show that looked like charts and statistics, images of a body highlighting certain areas in different colours.

"It looks like some kind of diagnostic magic." Wonder Woman theorized aloud; among the present Leaguers, she had the most amount of exposure to magic.

The Guardian was more intent on other things.

"Don't move or try to speak. I know the muscular spasms are bad but your ribs are just shards now. It cannot be immobilized to heal the long way. I'm going to pinch the nerves leading to the extremities." She spoke softly and a faint green light flew from the tip of her wand and sank into Batman. Almost immediately, the spasming limbs went limp. She rose to her feet and conjured a long staff capped with a thumb-thick stub of white chalk.

Swiftly she drew a circle on the concrete floor around Batman. As she knelt to etch the details into the circle she spoke aloud, so intent on her task she forgot about her audience.

"This should really be done over a node... after a proper consecration... with at least three to share the burden. I am starting to get very angry with you about your unwillingness to put yourself first. You are not accepting the reality that You are Important. If you die it is going to mess up a lot of plans."

She pulled her jumper off and tossed it to the ground before stepping into the circle. Then she touched his chest. A gold halo of energy flared around them. Her face contorted in agony as she fell down. She had enough control to direct her body to fall away from Batman, smudging the chalked circle. Red bloomed on her white shirt and began to flow down one thigh.

Carefully she lifted her wand and cast a spell upon herself. She had to repeat the process several times on each injury site. Legs, abdomen, ribs. When she finished, she was breathing hard and sweat soaked.

With no modesty, she stripped off her bloodstained white shirt before using it to mop the blood stains on her waist, back, and legs. Stains from wounds she had never suffered, wounds she had willingly taken on. Her narrow waist emphasized her full curves restrained by a blood stained peach silk bra. With little concern for her near nakedness, she dropped the garments and moved to straddle Batman's waist, leaning over him.

Then she slapped his cheek lightly.

"Wake up!"

The Dark Knight groaned and blinked rapidly to clear his blurry vision. Then his vision cleared to take in a very unexpected sight.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Hermione you big idiot!"

Then to everyone's shock, she reached over, grabbed one of the pointy ears of his cowl and dragged him up into a sitting position, still straddling his hips on her knees.

"You idiot!" She repeated with emphasis, yelling in his ear. "What in Merlin's name were you thinking?! You are supposed to be the planner! You do not jump in without evaluating the situation first!"

Several jaws dropped when he actually answered her and did not retaliate or disengage himself from her grip. "There was no indication Haelfer was a magic user. We knew he collected the tools but he had no talent in magic. Several mages on both sides of the line rejected his request to apprentice with them."

Hermione was not placated. "His profile clearly indicated he is obsessed! You and I know what obsessed people will do to secure their desires."

Batman nodded mutely. Then her expression softened and she touched his cheek, a light caress, thumb resting against the corner of his mouth.

"Don't do that again. I've broken too many rules."

His eyes widened when he realized something else. He reached out to grab her wrist, moving the hand touching his face. "You're… You're here!"

She nodded mutely. "You were dying. You cannot die." Then her eyes widened. She turned to look at something over her shoulder. "They're coming!" She tried to pull her wrist free— but he refused to let go.

"Who?"

Hermione made a face. "My mentors. My supervisors." She jerked her chin towards the gawping League members. "Too many witnesses." She glanced at the unconscious, wounded, and broken forms: including one catatonic would-be Mage. "Too much force."

Batman smirked. "I thought there was no such thing as overkill."

"That only applies to mortals. When we overdo it Crusades are started." She chewed on her full lower lip. "I don't know if I'll be permitted to keep helping you. I definitely won't be allowed to visit whenever I want to."

"Hermione!" A loud booming voice thundered from nowhere and everywhere. "What have you done!"

Batman's eyes widened. "It's my--."

Hermione's eyes narrowed and her lips thinned. She reached out and cupped his cheek and jaw, silencing him and forcing him to meet her eyes. "Don't you dare! It is not your fault!" She spoke firmly. Then she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "I Chose to help you. I Chose to Act. I Chose This!" Before their very eyes, she started fading. Her expression was earnest. "I might not be permitted to contact you Bruce but I will always watch over you. Your own Guardian Angel. Please… Live for me." Then she faded into a waterfall of glitter that vanished.

The only evidence of her presence were the unconscious minions, drooling wanna-be Evil Mage, the chalk circle, the staff she conjured, and the bloodstained shirt and jumper dropped carelessly on the ground.

Batman stared at his gloved hand; the hand that had encircled a delicate wrist, Her wrist.

It took several seconds to regain enough of his composure to move and help the others. His dour forbidding expression was enough to still the curious tongues. His growled words stilled the more persistent ones, those concerned about a potential threat.

"Later. After we finish mopping up."

...ooOoo...

Several hours later, the team convened in one of the many conference rooms on the WatchTower with a few other mystical experts. Wounds had been treated and energy levels replenished. Strangely enough, Batman had been one of the first allowed to leave the med-bay.

"It is like someone regenerated and healed his wounds... most curious because there is no sign of cellular damage. You say it was a spell?"

"Oh yeah. The ghost-guardian or whatever drew a circle with chalk and did Something. There was a golden glow and then She was bleeding and wounded." Wally answered.

"She shared his pain, took on his injuries. Then she used her magic to amplify her natural healing." Zatanna surmised. "A very tricky, delicate bit of magic. Focusing past the pain to cast healing spells is difficult. You say she was a ghost at first?"

"Yes." Diana answered. "She appeared out of mist. At first, she was translucent. Then... she became solid and attacked using a shaft of wood the length of her forearm to cast spells in Latin and a metal blade covered in flames. At the end she faded into sparkles of light like fireworks."

Zatanna nodded slowly. "Agents of the Higher Powers appear and vanish in showers of energy. The report said her name was Hermione, a Guardian?"

"Yes."

Everyone stiffened upon hearing the voice who answered Zatanna. Batman.

He moved gracefully to his usual chair and sat down.

"What do you want to know?"

Superman leaned forward. "Everything. What she is, how you met her, her angle and faction, potential threat/ally assessment." His expression was very serious. "You have hidden something that could turn out to be a serious threat to all of us Batman. Tell us why we should not label her as one."

Batman nodded slowly. "I have already posted a detailed report in the Watchtower's computer. I can summarize it right now.

"The first time I met Hermione Granger I must have been six-years-old. I had a fight with my parents, ran away, and got lost. She kept me from panicking and running, long enough for my parents to find me. Of course, they didn't believe she was real but they indulged me by calling her my guardian angel. I saw her a few times after that; she acted as a concerned bystander each time.

"The first time I really talked to her and asked why she kept showing up was when my parents died. Afterwards she was a regular presence in my life. She never grew older but what she was changed as I grew. At first, she was an adult caretaker, a neutral third party like a sitter. Later she became a friend, a confidant and advisor, a sounding board who would never lie or misdirect me. When I got an idea of what I wanted to do with my life, she listened and supported me. When I made my choice, she helped me plan my training and studies when others tried to dissuade me. She kept me sane and stable through my teens cutting down grandiose plans with blunt criticism. Whenever I was at my lowest points, she would be there to counter my doubts. When I reached the end of my rope, she would provide a different perspective. She would never give me information outright but she would point me in the correct direction. She wasn't always around but when I… needed, she was my rock." He looked faintly lost.

"Do you know anything personal about her?" Zatanna asked softly.

Batman nodded. "Just what she told me about her past. She is a witch. To be more accurate she Was a wand-using witch when she was alive. I did some checking and if she is truthful, as I believe she is, Hermione is from an alternate reality. In this world, Hermione Granger and her parents died in a car crash when she was just four-months-old. In her world, she received an invitation to attend a boarding school in Scotland that trained students in wand magic. That school does not exist here according to Jason Blood. It was shut down just thirty years after the founding. Instead of evolving into a society of wand users hidden from most of the world the old magical families broke alliances, choosing to pass their legacies privately, blending with their non-magical neighbours."

Zatanna was faintly impressed. "They must have accomplished a great deal in magical evolution and development!"

Batman snorted. "I would strongly disagree Zatanna. That world was far from perfect due to bigotry, stagnation, and fear. Every generation the traditionalists would rally around a 'Dark Lord' destroying and killing the perceived interlopers, the first-generation magic users like Hermione who did not have the family background, a magical lineage."

Zatanna shook her head. "How silly. There is some power in blood but there are other factors that determine the strength and skill of a Practitioner."

Batman nodded in agreement. "When she was a student her teachers called her the Best Witch of her generation. Power, skill, knowledge, application. They feared and hated what she represented, evidence that their core beliefs were false. But in addition to that she made friends, one of whom was the target of their current Dark Lords ire. When she was just fifteen one of her schoolmates was killed, the first in the war that followed." He looked around the table. "She made her choice and openly allied herself to a faction against the Dark Lord." Everyone hissed. "You can imagine what happened after.

"Her parents and friends were targeted but she did not run because if He won there would be no safe place for anyone to hide. The conflict that followed was ugly, prolonged, and messy because the authorities were corrupt or inept. There were few willing to take a stand, fewer who were capable of leadership and trained to fight. There was no Justice League, no metas, no one but a group of teenagers, civilians and few veterans who fought and survived previous conflicts.

"The full details are in the file but, to summarize, they won and life sort-of normalized. The students returned to school to complete their education. However, Hermione died before she ever graduated. She was poisoned by a relative of one of the Dark Lords followers who bribed his way out of a prison term."

There was a moment of respectful silence as Batman remembered and straightened out his thoughts to continue.

"After she died she was invited to join a special group of souls that would not reincarnate but act as guides and caretakers for the living. She spent a few decades studying before she was told to look out for me. And the rest is history."

"Wrong! That is Not the end of it!" A sharp sarcastic voice corrected in clipped English accents.

Everyone wheeled, rising from seats, ready to attack the intruder. A tall, black-eyed, sallow-looking man with limp black hair and a prominent nose dressed in black robes over an old-fashioned black frock coat and woollen pants stood before them.

His arms were crossed across his chest, fingers tapping impatiently at his elbows as he strode around the table towards Batman, robes billowing behind him. He stopped a few feet away from the Dark Knight and sneered.

"You are mucking things up for her and you don't even realise it." The stranger's black eyes focused with razor-sharp intensity on Batman. "She has repeatedly refused reincarnation to stay with You." His hair moved like a smooth curtain as he tilted his head to one side in sardonic study. "What she sees in you I cannot quite understand. But then again she Was friends with Potter."

Batman stared at the glowering figure. "Potions Master Severus Snape, I presume?"

Snape sneered. "Correct. Merlin knows what the girl has said about me."

"She was quite complimentary." Batman spoke in neutral tones. "Not the best teacher for beginners but definitely one to demand more than the best from his students. Perfect for those who wanted to attain mastery."

Snape raised a mobile brow. "How… flattering. But it does not change what has happened. Hermione has become too attached to you. She has refused politely worded requests, cajoling and orders; and now all of Creation is in danger of annihilation."

Batman's expression turned stony. "I don't see how our friendship could affect the existence of the multiverse."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath before answering.

"Hermione has a very important role to fulfill. In order to do that she needs to be alive. Since she died before fulfilling it, the Fates have been pushing her to reincarnate but she is digging in her heels like a typical Gryffindor, refusing to comply. Now all of Existence is on the brink of Destruction!"

Batman's eyes widened at the roared last phrase. "What? But why?"

Snape suddenly looked very tired. "She does not want to forget. Or to leave you. Both of which will happen if she is reborn."

Batman spoke hesitantly. "I can try talking to her. If you will let me."

Snape shook his head. "I do not see any point in that. Once she decides on something, she never bends. She was like that even as a teenager." He made a sour face. "A pity she died before she outgrew that tendency for mule-headedness."

Zatanna coughed slightly. "Perhaps she could store her memories in a crystal that would release them at specific intervals. That way she would still remember."

"Pensieved memories are not the same as actual experiences." Snape countered snarkily. "There is a difference between watching a film and living it."

Zatanna was affronted.

"But the Sorceress makes a good point." A high, childish treble voiced.

Everyone turned to see a trio of females standing at the end of the room dressed in white. A pre-pubescent red-head dressed in a simple knee-length chiton. A mature brunette in a more elaborate floor length chiton. A silver-haired crone in enveloping robes.

The more volatile League members were kept from attacking by Diana who bowed her head in respectful greeting while identifying them.

"We are honoured the Fates have chosen to reveal themselves to us."

However, the Fates were more interested their discussion than introductions.

"The truest way to experience the fullest depth of memories is through the body creating them." The brunette murmured in a mature, sultry voice.

"Then keep the body." The crone grumbled in a creaky cackling voice. "Let the child keep her own body."

The girl clapped her hands. "Yes lets! Let her keep her body."

Snape frowned. "How are you going to arrange for that? She died!"

The woman looked in a mirror she produced out of nowhere. "Events must unfold as they have but there is a period of time when it is possible to act. Once that window is closed, time will flow as it has. Hermione Granger will not exist in the universe she was born into. She cannot affect events and they will not affect her."

Snape's jaw dropped. "Did you lose a bet with Eris?"

The crone sniffed. "Do not push us Severus Snape. We decide which threads to weave in the tapestry. If the child has made a choice then we can accommodate it. As long as she fulfills her destiny it does not matter."

The woman turned dark eyes on the Dark Knight. "Only one question remains, what would her champion do for her? Is he willing to risk all?"

Batman squared his shoulders. "What do I need to do?"

The girl walked up and placed a scroll on the conference table. "Hermione is important. Her children will be important. They are key to restoring the balance. All our plans hinge on her having children. She has to be protected before and after birth. They must be raised to think and fight and lead."

The woman placed a small flat box beside the scroll. "If she had lived she would have married a mediocre male. The war and all the loss she experienced had damaged her emotionally. Afraid of being alone she would have accepted the first suitable offer believing that no one would ever feel strongly about her. Her children would have been taught and protected by those she chose as family, brothers and uncles of choice."

"But she died. It allowed for new possibilities." The crone laughed harshly as she observed her reflection in a small blade before placing it on top of the box. "She had more time to grow and come into her own; time and teachers she would never have had if she lived. She became strong. And her children will be correspondingly stronger."

The girl spoke in solemn tones. "There is a chance. After she is poisoned and falls into a coma the connection between her body and soul is broken. If you can administer the treatment within forty-eight hours, her soul can be called back to her body. Her experienced, older soul; the one you call friend."

"What's the catch?" Batman asked warily.

"You must locate the cure in her world."

"Protect her when she is vulnerable."

"Help her raise her children."

"The scroll has the clues you will need to locate and prepare for the cure. You will have a year and a day to Quest for it. Look for allies in the mirror."

"Open the box when you know exactly what you want."

"Use the knife to seal the contract."

"If you choose to stand aside the Powers have ordered her rebirth."

"She Will Forget. You Will Remember. And never shall you two meet in this lifetime."

"It would be a pity to have a strong tempered soul tossed back into the fire and risk it being re-forged into a flawed blade."

Then they spoke in unison. "It is your choice, Dark Knight. You have until the moon turns dark to decide." And all three Fate vanished.

Severus Snape shook his head and muttered curses under his breath. Then he raised his chin and looked at Batman squarely. "Make your choice but be certain it is one you can live with. There are no second chances."

Then he too vanished.

"New moon." Diana translated.

"Eight days." Zatanna noted.

Superman looked faintly uneasy. "I'm not sure what to say about the situation. Magic is not really logical or predictable. And this is not really a threat to our universe. And the Fates clearly have a back-up plan in place."

Everyone looked uneasily at Batman whose mind was clearly on other matters.

"Batman?" Diana spoke hesitantly. "What are you going to do?"

The Dark Knight turned and looked the Amazon Princess in the eye.

"I'm going to save Hermione."

Then he reached out to take the scroll left by the Fates. Without hesitation, he broke the seal and unrolled the parchment to read the contents.

...ooOoo...

TBC…

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AN: I know Batman is usually close-mouthed and abrupt but after the bombshell in the last chapter there might be fears he is compromised since most have heard him say 'I hate magic' in the past. So in this chapter he is more talkative to explain why he feels different in this particular case, with Hermione.


	2. Impending Loss

Summary: Setting up the scene with some background in Potterverse and Hermione's friends find out about her relationship with Bruce Wayne.

AN: I have no plans to fill in except through flashbacks and character thoughts.

AN: Just like now Brits and Americans have different slang so do their respective magical societies. Muggleborn=Newblood. Squib=Latent.

* * *

**...ooO Impending Loss Ooo...**

Harry rubbed his red, swollen eyes. He had not slept a wink since Madame Pomfrey left the specialists and gave them the diagnosis.

…ooO Begin Flashback ……

"I'm afraid there is nothing we can do for Miss Granger. It is best her friends say their goodbyes while they can."

Her audience of staff and students were stunned.

Harry was the first to find his tongue. "But surely you can do something! There must be some specialist Somewhere! I'm willing to do and pay anything to save her."

"I'm afraid all the galleons in the world would not do any good Mr. Potter. Her body is only alive due to charms and potions and it will shut down as the poison overcomes our efforts to stabilize her. She will die within forty hours. Besides, some of the healers are speculating her soul has already left her body."

"And have you tried Phoenix tears? Fawkes saved me from a basilisk's bite second year!" Harry cried out.

Poppy Pomfrey shook her head. "We've already tried that Mr. Potter. As well as some of the most powerful healing spells ever created. I'm sorry Harry, but Maleficents Eternal Rest is a Class A Dark Potion because it is untreatable. Some of the ingredients used to create it are rare and unbelievably expensive. No hospital or ministry could afford the cost to develop a cure or a treatment for such a rare poison. Not when there are other more common Dark potions and curses that need treatments developed."

...... End Flashback Ooo…

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall had been unexpectedly sympathetic. She had cancelled classes for that week. None of the teachers and students had been able to concentrate on lessons. This was not supposed to happen at Hogwarts! Not after they had fought and won a war to stop things like this!

"Hello Harry. I thought I would read 'Hogwarts A History'. Hermione would like it."

"Thank you Luna."

He smiled at the quirky Ravenclaw who entered the room and sat on the chair next to him before pulling out a book and reading from it aloud.

Harry ignored the words but allowed her tone to comfort and distract him as he remembered why it was Luna sitting next to him, not Ron or Ginny.

Three weeks before Hermione was poisoned she had broken up with Ron, yet again. From her rage and hurt, Harry had suspected it was a permanent thing unless Ron did some serious grovelling. Knowing Ron's temper, emotional selfishness, and zero tact Harry gave reconciliation zero odds.

The days that followed were tense and strained as Ron continuously put his foot in it, and Ginny tried to push Hermione to take Ron back— Ron who was clearly unrepentant and uninterested with his open interest in other girls whenever he was not making snide and demeaning remarks about, and to, Hermione. When Hermione refused, Ginny accused the Muggleborn witch of secretly nursing a tendre for Harry. It was a disgusting insinuation because Harry and Hermione considered each other as siblings, as family.

Seeing Ginny's temper tantrums struck a chord in Harry's mind. Dudley acted like that whenever his parents refused to give him what he wanted. Would Ginny act like that whenever Harry did not want to give in to her? Probably yes. It was the death knell for their relationship.

If Hermione had not been poisoned, if she was not dying, Harry might have excused Ginny's immature actions and selfish words. But Hermione was not fine and all Harry could remember was how miserable the two youngest Weasleys made her last weeks alive. It was something Harry could not forgive.

No. He could not forgive Ron and Ginny. Not now. Maybe not ever.

...ooOoo...

"Any news from your friends?"

Bill Weasley swallowed the last of his tea and brushed the scone crumbs off his robe.

"I'm afraid not Minerva. All of my contacts in Greece agree on the same point; there is not enough information to locate and excavate the correct temple in time to save Hermione."

Minerva sagged back in her seat. "I thought so... but I had hoped otherwise. But even ambrosia would have been no guarantee of a cure."

Bill shook his head. "Maybe. Maybe not. But it will be too late for Hermione, I'm afraid. I just stopped by the infirmary and spoke with Poppy. Her systems are starting to shut down. She is going to pass on in the next fifteen hours."

Minerva nodded slowly. "Do your contacts have any ideas or plans to excavate potential locations? I'm certain Harry would be interested in financing an expedition to retrieve ambrosia if only to prevent future tragedies like this."

Bill leaned back in his chair. "Actually the lead expert on Hebe was recruited by a consortium of wealthy American wizards a few months ago. I wasn't able to get in touch with Daniel Neilson."

Minerva blinked. "Why would Americans recruit a historian?"

"From what I've heard they've put together quite a few successful expeditions in South America and Greece. The exact details of the finds have not been revealed, of course, until the experts are satisfied... but are quite impressive for a newcomer. The goblins have been furious at being beaten to so many new untouched treasure sites. Some of my friends from my curse breaking days tell me the American expeditions must have some private source of information; perhaps a lost library containing details not known to most."

Minerva rested her cheek on her palm pensively. "How curious. I received a request from an American half-blood to tour Hogwarts. I had refused initially but he offered to make a generous donation for a tour, preferably when students were still in attendance. I replied in affirmative and made arrangements for him to visit and stay for a few days. He is supposed to arrive tomorrow."

Bill was taken aback. "He is still coming to Hogwarts?"

"I'm afraid so. I was unable to get in touch with him to reschedule. Hopefully he will understand we are not at our best and sympathize with the tragedy of the situation."

Then she stiffened and sat up straight.

"What is it Minerva?"

"We have guests. The castle wards have notified me."

Bill glanced at the clock. It was seven in the evening; a bit late for visitors.

Minerva made a decision. "Come. Let us see who our unexpected guests are."

...ooOoo...

Harry ignored the excited buzz around as he made his way up from the kitchens with a small basket of sandwiches. He hadn't felt like sitting down for dinner. He wanted to be with Hermione. Just in case.

"Mr Potter. Join me." The Headmistresses clear voice carried across to him.

Reluctantly the seventh-year returning student obeyed. Warily, he eyed the strangers with McGonagall circumspectly loosening the wand in his forearm holster. Just in case one of them reacted violently and tried to kill him.

One was a tall, broad-shouldered man with black hair falling to below his shoulders in slight waves and laughing blue eyes. His features were defined and strong, his skin faintly tanned. Unlike British wizards who wore odd or old-fashioned clothes, he wore Muggle clothes. Brown slacks with a grey-blue knit sweater and sky-blue dress shirt that could have easily been featured in a Muggle fashion magazine under navy blue robes that looked faintly like a trench-coat. His boots, though, were expensive Ukranian Ironbelly dragon-hide.

His companion was dressed in dark leather pants and boots made from Ironbelly hide. His charcoal robes had a similar trench-style look, closed up the front with a deep raised hood that cast his features in shadow.

Carefully Harry positioned himself so his back was not to the strangers. "You wished to speak to me Headmistress?"

"Yes Mr. Potter." She waved at the open-robed man. "This is Marius Wayne. He is an American wizard who asked to tour Hogwarts. He asked--."

Harry lifted his chin and interrupted the elder witch. "Ask the Headboy to show them around. I need to be with Hermione."

McGonagall shook her head. "That was not my request Harry. I understand and support your desire to stay with Miss Granger." She glanced at the Americans. "As the closest one who could be considered as Miss Granger's family, I feel you should be informed of a request made concerning Miss Granger."

His nerves sparked. "What request?"

Marius Wayne made a soft sound. "We would like to see Miss Granger. We've heard a lot about her. The older newspaper articles do not match what was reported about her actions during the Second Voldemort Conflicts."

Harry made a rude noise. "That's because the Daily Prophet isn't worth the paper it is printed on. Less in fact. They didn't print a single complete truth about Hermione. Hell, they left out half of what she did to help me survive Voldemort. The truth is that I would not be standing here if it were not for her. She is the hero. She chose to fight and help me. I was just stuck with a bull's-eye target because of some idiotic prophecy."

The hooded man stirred slightly and spoke. His voice was lower and gravely. "Nevertheless, we would like to pay our respects to her. She is an inspiration to many American newbloods; all she had done in less than a decade, as a student."

Harry shook his head. "No. If you want to pay your respects, you can do so with everyone else. At her funeral. Now is for people who care for her."

The hooded man glanced at Marius Wayne who gave a tiny shrug. Then he turned to Harry and spoke firmly. "I must disagree."

Harry stiffened his spine. "I don't see why you want to see Hermione so badly. She is in a coma. She is not going to come out of it. All the healers agree that she is dying."

"There is a chance she can be cured."

Harry perked up. "What? How?" He asked eagerly.

"I see her first." The hooded man countered.

Harry fumed but in the end conceded. "Fine. But I want to know everything! You aren't hiding anything from me. Even if it is for the Greater Good." He spat.

Both men nodded and looked at the Headmistress who looked bemused.

"Very well. Let us go to the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey has set up a private room for Hermione in one of the rooms close to the infirmary."

Silently the small group made their way to the Hospital Wing and a particular room where a silvery haired blonde was reading from a thick volume to a girl-woman lying on the bed covered with a grey sheet, her pale oval face surrounded by a halo of brown curls.

Harry drew out his wand in defence when the hooded man made an abortive motion towards his best friend. "First talk. Luna can keep secrets. The Headmistress will stay."

The hooded man raised his gloved hands to the edges of his hood and tossed it back. His face was a mirror match to Marius Wayne. The biggest difference was his hair; it was cut short but stylish, like a Muggle model. And his face was slightly harder, eyes darting around the room observing and cataloguing non-stop.

"My name is Bruce Wayne. And I am not his twin." He pointed at Marius. "Technically."

"Bruce is a dimensional traveller. Same parents, different name, very different upbringing. In his world there is no wizarding society but there is magic. He was given some information and the means to get here to save Miss Granger. But there is a catch."

Harry groaned. "There is always a catch. What is it?"

"The Fates appeared to my colleagues and myself as the Maid, the Mother, and the Crone and made their intent and desires very clear. Hermione Granger cannot stay in this world. Her time in this dimension is done. If she survives, she will have to leave with me. If she dies she will be reborn as the Fates desire it."

Harry didn't need to do think very hard. "So if you try and succeed she will have to leave every one of her friends. She'll have to leave us!"

Luna stirred. "But at least she will be alive, Harry."

The youth nodded in reluctant agreement. Then green eyes narrowed. "So what is it? What could possibly neutralize a Dark Potion with no known cure?"

Bruce produced a flattish hand-sized sandalwood box and placed it on the bedside table under the clear light of a floating glass orb. "Ambrosia."

Eyes widened. Luna hummed softly in her throat. "So Daniel Neilson finally found proof of his Greek Avalon." Everyone stared at her. "He is a historian specializing in the Hebe Tales. Daddy interviewed him a few years ago. Fascinating. Almost more so than the Deathly Hallows because the Hebe Tales are about Life, not Death."

Bruce stared hard, taken aback by the misty-eyed witch. Luna Lovegood definitely was everything Hermione claimed she was, and a whole lot more. Firmly he brought his mind back on track. "Potter, you can refuse to let me try, but if you do so I will knock you out and tie you up... but I would prefer not to. If this works I want Hermione's departure to be relaxed, not filled with recriminations and rushed."

Luna's eyes narrowed. "You call her Hermione. You know her. How do you know her?"

Three pairs of British eyes focused intently on Bruce Wayne who refused to quail.

"When she lapsed into a coma her soul was freed. Time has no real meaning to the dead or ethereal planes. It was decades before we met when I was a child. She was a spirit at the time. My parents had died and I was very angry. She kept me from going off on a vengeance kick. We became friends. She was an advisor, a sounding-board, a confidant. I thought she would be there forever; she was a spirit and would never die and leave me.

"Then I found out I was wrong. The Fates were determined to take her back for their own plans. Hermione made enough of a fuss for them to offer an alternative. I could try to save her in her home dimension, but if I succeed she must leave with me."

"Does Hermione know she'll have to leave us?" Harry wanted to know.

"I don't know." Bruce answered honestly. "But she was fighting the first plan they had for her. She didn't want to forget."

Harry nodded slowly. "I don't want to forget either." He moved to one side and waved his hand at the unconscious form on the bed. "Do what you have to do. Just… Just stay as long as you can. I want memories."

Bruce nodded solemnly. "I understand. Once I start, no one must interrupt. I only have one chance." There was a hint of reluctance but all three nodded their agreements.

Satisfied, Bruce quickly and deftly cast a series of powerful locking and shielding spells at the door before turning to the bed. The British wand-users and Marius Wayne moved aside to watch Bruce Wayne save the witch he crossed dimensional barriers to reach.

---

Bruce could feel his hands tremble as he tugged his gloves off and stuffed them into his robe pockets. Then, nimble fingers undid the clasps of the robe before he slipped the garment off and tossed it on one of the nearby chairs.

Bruce was not a man comfortable with showing his emotions in public— but to save Hermione he had to open himself. Ambrosia and ritual motions were not enough to bring her back. He had to use his emotions, his hopes and desires, to amplify the Healing and Calling. To do that he had to bring his mind into the correct state. He did not have familiar surroundings to focus on, only memories.

He leaned over Hermione and swiftly stripped the blanket and sheets off. The school healer had dressed Hermione in a long-sleeved, round-necked shift-like nightdress that buttoned down the front and reached past her knees. Vaguely he was aware of his local counterpart stopping Harry Potter from attacking. He felt some sympathy for the teen. It would go against every grain of decency and protectiveness to stand by and watch a complete stranger handle an unconscious friend so intimately, so he tried to make it easier for the boy, to reassure him he wasn't the only one who cared for Hermione. The only way to do this was by words and actions. He didn't have time to demonstrate he cared by actions. And he wasn't comfortable talking to others but he was used to talking to Hermione. So he talked to her. Fates willing she was listening now like she usually was; silent and unseen but always observing.

"I met my counterpart in this reality. He is a half-blood. The Waynes in this dimension are a magical clan though not pureblood. Thomas Wayne is a latent and Martha Wayne is a newblood witch. When they were attacked she managed to apparate her family out of danger. They did not die here. It was odd meeting them. But then I had to remember they were Not My Parents.

"In this world my counterpart goes by his middle name Marius. More fitting for the Magical world than just Matthew I guess. He is a businessman and a traveller. We have that in common though he is more interested in promoting the arts and education. Mother was, is, very philanthropic. I created the Martha Wayne Foundation for her you know."

As he talked, he transfigured the modest nightgown into something more revealing; a knee-length shift with no sleeves, thin straps, and a deep-scooped neckline. Then he produced a small green glass flask from a pocket and unstopped it. Carefully he poured the contents on his cupped palm. He rubbed his hands together to warm the liquid before anointing her, rubbing the oils on her exposed skin, face, arms, upper chest. Between strokes, he poured more oils on his hands before resuming his actions. Once he was done with her upper body he moved to the foot of the bed to anoint her feet, calves, and higher pushing the hem up to reach her upper thighs before tugging the material down.

"It took me a week to recover from the crossover shock. The Fates had forgotten to mention the possibility of developing a magical core. It took me a month to stabilize and develop enough mastery to not lose control in public. Then I had to rush through five years of magical education in three months. Luckily, I paid attention to your lectures on magic. I just needed to polish up on theory and run through drills for the practical.

"I still think a wand is a silly, fragile focus tool. It is too vulnerable to be used in combat. I had a few discussions with Ilya Gregorovitch before I commissioned him to create a pair of custom battle wands for me. They are shaped like sais, only the middle tine is shorter and a bit thicker. It holds the wooden shaft that extends into the handgrips of the sai. The wood is reinforced by a titanium-carbon over-lay. I get some interesting amplifying effects when duelling. The three tines simulate separate circuits that create a Tesla coil effect.

"You may be interested in commissioning a similar creation for yourself; or perhaps something more conventional. You like fighting with two blades; a nodachi with a tanto? The Japanese samurai wizards specialize in channelling their spells through their katanas. I tried talking to a few of their Master-smiths, but I couldn't get more than the vaguest hints. We'll probably have to experiment with different designs. Jason still remembers his time as a Knight. He should have some ideas on sword-crafting. If not we can ask Diana to petition Hephaestus for help. But perhaps we should not even bother if he'll be as helpful as The Fates.

"Anyway the scroll the Fates gave me the vaguest of hints and clues. Too many possibilities for me to search them all. I didn't have the resources to investigate and eliminate the unlikely sites so I chose to get help from the locals. One successful Relic Hunting Expedition and several narrow escapes gave me enough clout to make my case to the backers. It was a shock to find one of them was my counterpart. It was like looking in the mirror. The Maiden-Fate did tell me to look for allies in the mirror so I took a risk and involved him.

"He didn't believe me at first. But I offered my free services as an investigator and relic hunter if he financed the costs. He definitely did not lose out on his end. His group now have quite a few sites and caches to their credit. A nice chunk of treasure, knowledge, and prestige. And each site led me closer to Hebe, the cup-bearer.

"Your theories were right Hermione. I located Olympus. It was on a peninsula that does not exist in my world. I wonder if the gods back home sank the land to keep their secrets. I suppose the gods of this dimension felt differently since magic is more prevalent here. They cleared the structures pretty thoroughly of almost everything but I managed to find what I was looking for… Ambrosia.

"As per my agreement with Marius I got to keep most of it which isn't a lot. I left a few pieces behind and warned the expedition leaders the gods do not look kindly on those who steal from them. However the expedition leaders thought they knew better; they broke the agreement I had with Marius and paid the price. I'm afraid the Permanent Spell Damage wards for at least three American hospitals now have quite a few new residents. The ambrosia had been cursed. It can only be carried or consumed by those the gods deem worthy. The pieces I left behind were supposed to be collected and protected by the local Seer. It seems as though Pythias are not as affected by most pantheon curses because they are channels for the Powers."

He moved back to the head of the bed and stroked her temples and cheeks with oil slick fingers. By now every inch of exposed skin shone from the slippery liquid.

"I didn't stay to handle the chaos the expedition was in. My year and a day were nearly at an end. I destroyed five practice duelling arenas in Athens then Rome waiting to get the news. To find out you were poisoned and in a coma. To be free to act and bring you back. The Fates forbade me from interfering in events or stepping on British soil until after you were poisoned; to maintain integrity of the timeline and not to unravel history. One year to prepare for a forty-eight hour window.

"I have never prepared a potion that was so important. From a recipe that has not been seen or prepared in millennia. But I think it worked. I was very careful. It is not like I have more ambrosia to make another batch of oil."

Then he carefully lifted her torso up off the bed, keeping her up with one forearm across her back. Her head lolled back slightly. Deftly he opened the sandalwood box and removed a small piece of red jelly-crystal glowing gold from within. Carefully he placed it between her lips. Then he placed the lip of the flask against her mouth and tipped a small amount of the contents into her. Then he caressed the column of her throat, stroking the front to encourage her body to swallow. And she did.

The potion coating her body began to glow with a soft golden light before it was absorbed by her body leaving her skin almost iridescent with a faint peach tan.

Bruce watched, wary and tense, waiting for more of a reaction. Seconds later her eyelashes fluttered and lifted to reveal tired but wondering eyes. She coughed, then chewed on the ambrosia and swallowed it.

"You did it." Her voice was hoarse and rusty sounding.

He raised a faint brow. "Did you ever doubt me?"

A corner of her mouth lifted into a faint smile. "Never." And then she lifted a hand to cup the back of his head and bring his face down to kiss him.

Bruce tensed for a brief second before he responded wholeheartedly. The past year away from his duties and responsibilities – to Gotham City and Wayne Corporations, as Batman and Bruce Wayne – gave him the chance to re-evaluate his life, priorities, and private desires. All his life Hermione had been by his side; the only one who could even come close to being as true as she was Alfred. Alfred was his father-figure but Hermione was definitely not his sister. She had never tried to fit the shoes of a relative (Bruce would have never tolerated it in the early days); and after she had always chosen to be a friend.

Reluctantly he lifted his mouth from hers and rested his forehead against hers.

"We have to get ready to leave. I've already had several trunks packed with references and other useful resources and supplies. You will want to go through your parents' belongings and gather what you want to take and say your goodbyes."

She nodded solemnly. "Clotho told me. I'm sure you've done a thorough job but I'd like to do some personal shopping in Diagon Alley and Knockturn."

Bruce nodded. "I thought so. Marius has arranged for credit accounts at several stores that he will pay off. I have Gringotts bearer vouchers for purchases in Knockturn Alley."

He moved and allowed her to swing her legs over the edge of the bed and stand up though he stayed close, in case her body was too weak. It wasn't.

She waved a hand at her revealing night dress wandlessly and wordlessly transfiguring it into one with short sleeves and a more modest neckline. Then she moved her arms into a quick series of motions testing her strength and flexibility. Without a care for her audience, she transfigured hip high slits in the skirt and experimented with her legs. When the skirt rode too high, all could see the black lycra and lace boy-shorts she wore.

"My condition is much better than what I expected." She spoke absently bracing one bare foot against the wall at shoulder level then easily stretching over it to press her forehead against the limb. "I was never so flexible before."

"You trained for years in the ethereal planes. Your duelling styles incorporate the martial arts you learned from the Masters. Those experiences have carried over to your physical body. Plus the ambrosia repaired and shaped your body to its optimal condition and physical fitness." Bruce pointed out blandly.

She tilted her head to one side. "I wonder…"

Then she brought her hand together above her head in a sharp clap. A blue light shone from between her linked fingers. Then she drew them apart and down to her side. As her hands separated a wide ribbon of crackling blue energy remained forming an arc above her head. By the time her hands reached her waist-level the ribbon was a rope and almost pulsing from the magical potential she had used to create it.

When she spoke her voice was almost giddy.

"Bruce… Could you make some targets please?"

Bruce smiled faintly and lifted his wand. Deftly he conjured and transfigured several pieces of knick knacks and furniture into wooden bull's-eye targets and a stone statue.

"No explosions. You can experiment later." He warned sternly.

She smiled brilliantly at him. "Of course."

And then her wrists twisted. The rope snapped leaving two whips of pure energy, one in each hand. One wrist flicked. The energy whip lashed out slicing off the statues wrist. The other solidified into a scimitar that she slashed at an angle. A crescent of raw energy flew forward bisecting the statues torso.

The couple heard the gasps from their audience.

"Miss Granger! Stop it before you hurt someone."

Hermione turned to her first mentor and smiled warmly. "It won't Professor McGonagall." Then she demonstrated, flicking the whip at Bruce who raised a forearm in defence. The blue ribbon-rope coiled around his forearm restraining him but not inflicting any other damage like it had done on the dummy. She smiled happily. "It is a little something I developed after listening to a few physics lectures. The spell energy will not affect living materials. Its effects are strongest on non-organic materials. Perfect restraints and defences for physical threats." She explained. Then she noticed Luna and Harry and held out her arms. "Aren't you going to give me a welcome-back hug?" She inquired archly.

That was enough impetus for the witch and wizard to rush forward and hug their friend.

It was in their strong embraces that Hermione allowed herself to cry, to mourn, to grieve for what she had thought she had lost, for what she would have to leave behind.

...ooOoo...

TBC…


	3. Announcements

Summary: Harry Luna and McGonagall get more shocks and the school population is informed about Hermione's miraculous healing and plans. Hogwarts hosts the Bonding Ceremony and a few try to thwart it and fail.

* * *

**...ooO Announcements Ooo...**

Harry resisted the urge to glare at the older man sitting at the Head Table. It was difficult not to, given what he knew about how intimate his relationship with Hermione was.

…ooO Begin Flashback ……

Hermione pulled away from Harry and Luna, her eyes teary but warm and somehow older, more experienced and knowing.

"I love you, both of you. You are the brother and sister I never had. But like most siblings we will have to part as we grow older. Unfortunately we will not have the option of vacations, reunions, or letters to stay in touch. But I will always remember." She told them in steady emphatic tones.

Luna nodded. "I understand Hermione. I'll help Harry understand."

"Thank you Luna."

Hermione turned to the Headmistress and smiled. "Headmistress. There is so much I want to tell you about what I've learned... but there is no time— and they were very strict about what I am allowed to do. I can't teach you anything. It would upset the balance. But if you were to get hints from anything I say I cannot be held responsible."

Minerva nodded. "I see Miss Granger. I suppose pensieved memories are out of the question."

"Most definitely. But I can say one thing. There is an afterlife. I didn't get to meet all of our dead because they chose to continue on. But I did meet a few very special souls who chose not to move on immediately. One of them was Professor Snape. He was one of my mentors on the Other Side."

Minerva raised a faint brow. "Has he changed?"

Hermione grinned. "Not a bit. He is as snarky, critical, and sharp-tongued as ever."

That made the older witch smile. Then the reality of the situation came home. She turned to Bruce Wayne. "How long before you have to leave?"

"Forty hours. Noon the second day from today."

Minerva considered the information. "I presume you will want to make your purchases and trips tomorrow."

Hermione nodded emphatically. "Don't tell anyone I've recovered. I don't want the Ministry to interfere and try to detain Bruce and myself. We can take precautions not to be identified tomorrow. You can inform those who would need a goodbye at Hogwarts tomorrow evening; we can see them the next morning before we leave."

Minerva nodded briskly, mentally drawing up lists of people, mainly members of the Order of Phoenix and few others who would want to see Hermione one last time.

"I suggest you talk to your friends in Hogwarts tonight if at all possible. You are going to be very busy tomorrow. But I do have some concerns about your plans." The stern Scots witch turned to Bruce Wayne and focused penetrating hazel eyes on him. "Mr. Wayne, you are going to be taking someone I consider a daughter to a completely different world. I will never be able to verify her health and happiness once she leaves. Technically, she is an adult— but she is also still a student, my charge. What reassurances can you give me? That you will ensure she is safe when you reach your world?"

The British witches and wizard watched Hermione Granger move to stand beside the American. She looked young and vulnerable standing next to the taller, older male. Then she pressed herself against his side resting her head against his arm. They watched him smile down at the mass of brown curls and brush a kiss against the top of her head. When he looked up his expression was noticeably softer.

"Headmistress McGonagall, I am willing to swear an Unbreakable Vow that I will look after Hermione to the best of my abilities. But I won't, because that implies that she is a child unable to look after herself and make her own decisions.

"I think I can honestly say I know Hermione better than any of you here. We've spent three decades together. My lifetime." He stressed the point. "She is not a teenager despite her appearance. Nor is she a fragile survivor. She is a strong, brilliant woman who is more than capable of making what she wants happen."

Minerva looked troubled. "How long has it been Miss Granger?"

"Decades." Hermione answered simply. "Decades mastering many fields of magic and sciences as well as my body. Mind over body. As I honed my mind, my body needed to follow. I could have easily qualified for several Olympic teams. Whenever I materialized to execute my duties, it was in a body that was at its peak in every sense. I could never falter when protecting or guiding those under my care." She smiled up at the man standing next to her. "Bruce was my charge but when his parents died I saw he dearly needed a friend so I broke the keep-your-distance rules. My supervisors never recalled me so I had to have been doing the right thing."

"She was more than just a friend." Bruce murmured as he wrapped an arm around her waist to draw her close. "She was confidant, advisor, partner, all in one; a shoulder to cry on, a listening ear, a true sounding board, a brutal critic, an ego-deflator, encouragement to persist." Midnight blue eyes silenced the words on the tip of Minerva's tongue. "She was everything to me. The only one to even come close is the man I consider a second father, the one who raised me when my parents died." He smiled faintly. "It is part of the reason why my personal relationships always ended badly; I was too distant with them or they could not accept me like Hermione. I shared everything with Hermione. The only thing we weren't was lovers."

Hermione lifted her head from his arm and her eyes pleaded with her friends to understand. "We were never lovers. I was a spirit with no true body. We never ever considered the possibility because as far as we knew it was impossible. Bruce had lots of girlfriends and a few serious relationships."

"Each of which crashed and burned after a certain point." Bruce added wryly. "They did not, could not, understand or accept all of my aspects and choices."

Hermione glowered and a hot retort burst out. "Because they are selfish bitches who have no conscience or faith in you. Thousands of women would feel like I do about what--."

He pressed a finger against her lips to still her words. "They would not understand either. They could not see everything and accommodate my obligations as you do." He sighed softly. "Sometimes I still wonder if one day you will change and feel the same."

Hermione made a rude noise, jerked her face away and bit the tip of his finger in reprimand. "Don't be an idiot. I spent years making sure you stayed alive; I bloody well will continue to do so." Her eyes glowered. "I don't have the mindset to continuously be on the front-lines like you, but I am more than comfortable with holding the home-base. Both of us know there are no guarantees in life but what we make ourselves." Her eyes were challenging. "I know what I want and I will hold onto it with everything I have while I still can."

Bruce stared down bemused by the heated promise he saw in gold-flecked eyes. "You are serious then."

Hermione smiled in response. "As a heart attack. I know what my response will be."

Bruce inhaled deeply. "I don't have any of the Wayne heirlooms – they are back home – but I picked up something else in Hebes Temple that reminded me of you." He picked up the carved wooden box and opened it for her. Two coils of pure hammered gold rested on black silk. Scattered in-between them were fragments of glowing reddish-gold jelly, ambrosia. "They are bonding bracelets. I thought you would like your friends to witness the ceremony before we left. If you want to marry me."

Tears filled Hermione's eyes as she reached up and wrapped one arm around the back of his neck to draw him down for a long kiss. When they finally parted, she gave him her answer, "I do," and wrapped her arms around him tightly, relishing the feel of every inch of his hard body against hers.

For several minutes they stood in comfortable silence, wrapped in each other's arms.

...... End Flashback Ooo…

Harry made a face as he remembered how Luna and McGonagall had rushed over to gush, fuss, cry, and congratulate Hermione. When he had opened his mouth to protest Luna had stepped hard on his foot. McGonagall did not even make a fuss when Hermione asked for a private room for herself and Bruce away from the students for the remainder of her time in Hogwarts. Given the way they had looked and touched each other they definitely had no plans to spend the night in separate beds.

"Harry, mate, why are you glaring at that American?"

Harry glanced at Ronald Weasley and struggled not to snap at the red-head.

"Did something happen last night? Something to do with Hermione?" Neville asked. Neville Longbottom had matured into a more perceptive and observant wizard. He knew Hermione was constantly on Harry's mind right now. He knew she was dying, like all of the school did, and for Harry to be distracted something must have happened.

Ron frowned. "What could an American have to do with Hermione?" He countered.

Harry snapped. "Everything." He snarled.

Then at the Head Table McGonagall stood up and rang a bell to get the attention of the everyone in the Great Hall. When silence fell, she spoke.

"I have most welcome news to report regarding Hermione Granger."

The students at the Slytherin table frowned. They knew the mudblood was as good as dead. What could McGonagall be so happy about?

The Ravenclaws looked intrigued. Welcome news? A new treatment that was tested successfully on Granger?

The Gryffindors perked up, whispers starting, hope blooming as several of them visibly resisted the urge to jump up and demand answers.

The Hufflepuffs waited patiently, yhough they were just as interested as the other houses.

"You may not know but last night two American guests arrived. One of them is a good friend of Hermione Granger's. When he heard of her condition, he immediately made plans to see her. He is a project leader for the Wayne Consortium based in Gotham City. The Wayne Consortium has over the past years has bankrolled several research proposals, one of which developed an experimental one-time-only treatment. It was successfully used to cure Hermione Granger and restore her to full health. Madame Pomfrey and several specialists from St Mungos have confirmed all traces of the Dark Potion have been eradicated from her system."

She turned and held out a hand. From a side-door emerged a small but shapely form clad in a midnight blue silk dress under a deep V-neck robe made of burgundy damask. The robe was held closed above the waist by a bat-shaped gold clasp set with black gems before the robes fell open down the front to mid-calf. Her hair was twisted in a loose top knot and anchored by gilded ebony skewers, small curls framing her face and touching the nape of her neck. Small gold knots gleamed at each earlobe. And to everyone's shock, Hermione Granger was wearing make-up; pearly glitter on her eyelids, subtle colour on her lips, gold dust on her cheekbones and collarbones.

There was a thunderous round of heartfelt applause and shrieks of welcome and inquiries. What was shocking was her response. She did not bow her head, or try to hide. She met each group of students head on. Cool defiant challenge with her opponents, the pureblood traditionalists. Neutral reserve with a few. Appreciative warmth with the rest.

McGonagall waited before speaking. "As a result of her recent misfortune Miss Granger has decided to accelerate certain plans she had and will be leaving Hogwarts tomorrow morning. She plans on completing and continuing her magical education in America. From now until the evening curfew, or as Miss Granger's condition allows, there will be an open session in the Great Hall for anyone desiring to speak to Miss Granger."

Then she watched as the students stood in one rush and flooded towards the front of the Great Hall to get the best positions to be heard and to hear.

Hermione smiled ruefully as the staff removed the tables and levitated the benches into auditorium style tier seating. McGonagall removed the Head Tables and transfigured more comfortable chairs on the dais. House elves produced a small table set with pitchers of liquids and glasses and a tea tray with scones. Hermione had already eaten so she poured herself a glass of pomegranate juice. She really did not like pumpkin juice.

She sat next to Bruce in the loveseat and sipped her juice and waited. Their fingers laced and rested on the thighs pressed together. Once the students had more or less settled the questions came in a rush.

"Who is the wizard sitting beside you?"

"How did you meet?"

"How did you get cured?"

"Are you really leaving Hogwarts?"

"Why are you moving to America?"

Hermione resisted the urge to laugh.

"All right. All right. Let me say my piece before opening for questions. One question at a time and I reserve the right to refuse to answer."

There were some mild grumbles before they quieted and Hermione resumed speaking. She glanced to the man sitting beside her and was reassured by his small smile.

"Ok, let's start with the first question. This is Bruce Wayne, a relative of Marius Wayne, the head of the Wayne Consortium, an American group that finances research expeditions. He is a researcher, trouble-shooter, curse-breaker, and a whole lot of other things. We met years ago in the Muggle world and became friends and correspondents. After the war and my parents' deaths we became much closer." She held up her hands. "I felt, I still feel persecuted for my beliefs and upbringing. Things like my anti-house-elf slavery views, interests in Muggle sciences and politics, desire for reform in Wizarding laws and politics. America is less restricted. There are many who feel like I do. Bruce is one of them.

"In fact we saw just how criminal my opponents are. They used a clearly illegal Dark Potion to kill me. The only reason I survived is Bruce. In his latest project, his team located and excavated Hebe's Temple. Hebe was cup-bearer to the Greek Pantheon, she served them ambrosia. In the temple, he found a small amount of ambrosia and a recipe for a near-universal cure. The recipe can never be duplicated, unless more ambrosia is located. The only remaining fragments are being guarded by the Wayne Consortium; when certain groups tried to do what Bruce did they were driven insane. I don't know why it worked for me and not for others."

Then Bruce spoke in a low resonant voice. "When I heard Hermione was in a coma I dropped everything to get here. I did not know if Hebe's Blessing would work, but it was the only chance Hermione had. After she woke up, I realized just how important Hermione is to me. I didn't want to risk losing her ever, to death, another country, another man so I ignored my self-doubts and fears and asked her to marry me and move to America. And she made me the happiest man alive by saying yes."

There was a small uproar at that announcement.

"You can't do that!" Ron Weasley screamed. "She's supposed to marry me!"

Everyone stared at the purpling red-head. The girls made comparisons between the seventh-year mediocre student and the older experienced man and found the younger male very lacking. Even the boys could see Bruce Wayne was everything a girl would want in a boyfriend and husband. And he had saved her from certain death!

Hermione looked torn between amusement and scorn.

"Ron, all we do is fight. You hate it when I talk about my research and interests. All you're interested in is Quidditch and I think broomsticks are silly fragile things. We broke up weeks ago and that was most definitely the last time for me. Even if I hadn't been poisoned I would Not have made up with you. Not unless you matured emotionally." She wrinkled her nose. "Something I truly doubt you are capable of." She smiled at her companion. "Bruce was a friend who listened to me and my theories seriously. I never thought there could be anything between us because I was so much younger and he had several gorgeous girlfriends."

"None of who understood me half as well as you do." He vowed brushing his lips to the back of her hand. He smiled at the audience. "Perfect packaging does not matter if the contents fail to satisfy all aspects – intellectual, social, emotional, and physical.

"I am sorry she will have to leave all her childhood friends behind but there are others in America who have heard of all she's done and are eager to meet her. What we have is a-once-in-a-lifetime possibility and I'm not willing to let it slip by."

Minerva McGonagall decided to insert her own two cents. "I have had a long private conversation with Mr. Wayne and am confident in the sincerity of his pledge. Enough to host their Bonding Ceremony before they start their new lives in a new world."

Those words were enough to still the reflexive protests and change the topic.

Harry did not chase after Ron who was stalking out of the Great Hall. Ron needed a cool off period and Harry was not interested in listening to him vent. Hopefully he wouldn't make a scene at the Bonding Ceremony tomorrow morning. For now, he watched his fellow students ask questions and listen to Hermione and Bruce answer. In less than twenty hours, Hermione would be gone forever. He was determined to make as many memories as possible, to get to know her as best he could in the time they had left.

...ooOoo...

Harry fidgeted in his formal dress robes. From the earliest dawn hours, witches and wizards trickled into Hogwarts; from all walks of life, rich and poor, British and not, pureblood and not, government employees and business owners. Halfway through the informal Q&A period the previous night, several students took the time to send owls; owls that resulted in several desired and undesired visitors.

Hermione and Bruce had holed up in their private suite to avoid the shouting, raging accusations and teary wails. It had taken Molly Weasley three hours to calm down to her current glowering simmer. Luckily, the male Weasleys (other than Ron) were more than happy for Hermione.

Minerva had raised Hogwarts' wards to full strength to keep most of the curious interlopers off the school grounds. Including the lower level Ministry flunkies and minor-Purebloods. Unfortunately the more powerful or prominent opponents could not be denied without risking her position as Headmistress.

Kingsley's pureblood advisors were making their views very clear. One was especially vocal.

"I cannot see how you can condone such a union! Between a student and a much older foreign wizard! Clearly you are not acting in the best interest of our children."

Then he was stunned silent and tossed then bound into a chair. Everyone turned to see a very young red-head, a mature brunette, and a silver-haired crone appear in the middle of the Great Hall in a flash. They were dressed in white classical garments.

The youngest spoke in a high childish treble. "She can because We desire it."

The crone glared. "We sent Hermione's champion to save her life, just as she saved his."

The brunette was very amused. "And now they will be forever bound to each other. First by duty, then by choice, and now finally love."

McGonagall stiffened her spine. "The Fates I presume."

The hag smirked. "Correct. We are here to make sure the Dark Knight and his Lady move onto the next leg of their journey home."

Minerva bowed her head. "Who am I to defy the Fates?" She glanced around at each of the now fearful silent opposition. Then she turned to the audience and spoke in louder tones. "We are here to witness the Bonding of a dear friend and student to her heart's desire. Hermione Jean Granger, daughter of Daniel and Jane, to Bruce Matthew Wayne, son of Thomas and Martha. Witnesses, please join me at the front."

Harry and Luna stood up and joined Minerva and Marius at the front, each standing on a direction point of the compass rose design transfigured on the stones. Then from opposite sides of the Great Hall two figures emerged to walk towards the center.

From the left a powerfully built older male with strong bones and short black hair; clearly in his prime. He wore black dragonhide, sleeveless vest, trousers, and boots. Silver and steel glinted at his heels, waist, and around his biceps and wrist; spurs, buckle, armbands and bracers.

From the right a much younger but mature female with glowing skin and waist-long curly hair; just out of her teens but serene and certain. She wore white silk, a classical floor-length chiton and leather slippers. Gold cord wrapped around her torso defining her full curves, as well as around her head, securing her hairstyle. Hammered gold bands rested around her defined upper arms.

Night and Day, Dark and Light, Age and Youth, Male and Female, they met at the center of the compass rose.

"Speak your vows." It was a statement not a command. "Let us all witness."

Bruce inhaled deeply. The magic of the ceremony used to prepare the compass rose would not allow him to lie or hold back completely.

"I remember the first time I realised that you were more than just a concerned bystander; when my parents died. I remember the first time I nearly died on my training trip; my first regret was I did not get to say goodbye. I remember when I solved my first case; I wanted to tell you. I remember when Jason died, Barbara was paralysed, Tim kidnapped, Richard left; you were there.

"You were always there. When you weren't the world became a much bleaker place. When I was told about the full impact of the choices you made for me… There was no doubt in my mind. I knew what I would do, what I wanted, what I hoped for… You." He picked up the knife resting on the small altar. 'Use the knife to seal the contract,' the Crone had instructed. He made a slice across his left palm. "I cannot guarantee your safety, no one can do that. But I vow I will do the best I can; I will love, honour, and cherish you and all that we share." A faint silver glow shone from his bleeding hand.

Tears glimmered in her eyes as she made her vows.

"I remember the first time I saw you; the day my mentor told me to look out for you. I remember the moment you decided on your Calling; I cried so hard but I was so proud. I remember the night you escaped from the League; I would have cheerfully slaughter Ra's and Henri if you had died. I remember each time you met a beautiful, powerful woman who could have very easily been your One; my heart ached but I kept smiling because you dearly needed a partner who could share your life and give you a family.

"I felt selfish and greedy until I realized there was no one else who could or would do and be what I did and was for you; an anchoring counter-weight. We were friends first and we would always be. If you had met someone who was willing to accept the shadows and weight as well as the light and quest I would have gladly welcomed her presence in your life. When I was… recalled, I realized just what I stood to lose… You." She took the knife from him and reciprocated his action, a slice across her left palm. "I was willing to share you with the world and other women but I would fight with everything I have to keep what we have, to stay with you. I vow I will always be there by you; I will love, honour, and cherish you and all that we share."

A gold light shone from her bleeding hand. Both energies radiated out from the couple, reforming into strands of raw magic that solidified into colourful ribbons twirling and dancing around them. The colours of their clothes began to bleed into each other until he was clad in the darkest of greys and she in the lightest. The ribbons coiled around their forearms, twisting in an intricate infinity loop joining seamlessly then tightening so each palm pressed against the others inner forearms. Then the ribbons shimmered into energy before sinking beneath their skin leaving a faint tracery of golden runes etched-tattooed around their wrists. In a regular Bonding Ceremony the elder would use ribbons to symbolically bind the couple together; then he or she would slip bracelets or rings on to indicate the union. For magic to act unbidden and leave permanent markings was clearly a highly desired union.

Minerva blinked at the unexpected turn of events. "Well, I suppose there is nothing else for me to do but say, you may kiss the bride."

Hermione smiled tearily at her new husband and lifted one rune marked wrist to him. He took it in his much larger hand and drew her close to kiss her deeply. When he ended the kiss and lifted his face away, her eyes were dazed and mouth faintly red.

The next forty minutes were a flurry of activity and congratulations for the new couples while the Ministry and Purebloods re-evaluated their strategy for interfering in a union clearly desired by the Fates. But they never got the chance to act.

A familiar, cutting, sardonic voice interrupted the cheerful atmosphere. "It is time to leave."

Severus Snape stood with the three strange women towards the side of the Great Hall.

There were several frightened squeaks and wands pulled out.

"Severus Snape?!"

"But he's dead!?"

What was even more shocking was the bride's reaction. A bright smile spread across her face as she pulled her groom with her across the room.

"Severus?" Then she reached out and hugged the Potions Master who unexpectedly returned her embrace, though a tad awkwardly. She pulled back. "I'm so glad to see you. I was afraid you would be penalized for interfering."

Snape shook his head. "Not at all Miss Granger, though I suppose I should get accustomed to calling you Mrs. Wayne now."

She smiled teasingly at her old Potions Professor. "I don't suppose you would unbend enough to call me Hermione."

"Perhaps. After your first child."

She smiled warmly. "Then you will be calling me Hermione before a year is done."

The Potions Master heaved a heavy sigh. "And what a relief that will be."

"A most anticipated blessed event." The small redhead giggled.

The crone cackled. "A most extensive betting pool has already started among the Gods with Hermes acting as bookie. Only we know and we aren't talking."

The brunette chuckled wickedly. "But it is time for you to get back home and more private rooms." Her expression sobered. "So say your farewells Hermione Wayne."

Hermione ignored the shocked gaping expressions of their audience and turned to the three who she had confided all.

"Minerva. Luna. Harry. Be happy. Live. That is all I can ask." She hugged each of them in turn before joining her husband in the center of a ritual circle in the midst of a pile of magical trunks. The Fates and Severus had set up the Gateway Ritual behind notice-me-not charms during the reception after the ceremony.

There was a powerful swell of building magick as the Fates and Severus Snape chanted in an ancient unknown language. Then there was a blinding flash of blue light. The pile of trunks and the new couple within the circle were gone. The lines of the circle chalked on the stones were smeared and indistinct. Snape waved his hand and all traces were gone. He looked straight at the three who Hermione cared for and nodded slightly before greeting each in turn.

"Minerva. Miss Lovegood. Mr. Potter." His expression softened a fraction. "She will be happy and well loved. Bruce Wayne is more than capable and his allies are varied from all walks of life and powers." Then he answered their unvoiced questions. "I have not met any of our recent dead, not with all the hard feelings felt and what I had to do. I still do not feel ready to see Albus or Lily."

Harry nodded. He could understand why. The Potions Master had mourned his mother for twenty years while he lived, why would dying and the afterlife have changed that? Hermione was more mature and experienced but she cared just as deeply.

Severus bowed his head. "I will not return for at least a few generations. Others will watch over this dimension." And then he vanished.

Harry watched the spot where they had vanished ignoring the rising crescendo of accusation and demands for explanations, answers and actions. McGonagall could take care of it. He wanted to remember and celebrate with those who would accept.

He walked over to Neville who was looking a bit bewildered but otherwise okay despite seeing his old nemesis, the deceased Potions Professor.

"Hey Neville! Do you want to drink a toast with me? To Hermione and her future?"

Neville nodded. "Sure thing Harry. But ask Blinky for the good stuff. Hermione and her husband definitely deserve it." Then a shrewder light shone in mild brown eyes. "I'd also like to hear the whole story."

Harry laughed. "For you? Sure. But if anyone else asks me I'll deny everything."

...ooOoo...

TBC…

* * *

AN: I chose the middle names for both. It is either Jane/Jean for Hermione and I'm not sure if Bruce has one.


	4. Returning Home

Summary: Varied reactions and plans among friends in the League and Gotham before they finally settle into married life.

* * *

**...ooO Returning Home Ooo...**

Superman glanced over at Jonnz. "Have you heard anything? From Batman?"

The Martian Man-Hunter inclined his head. "I have. Fate has confirmed he and his companion have returned safely. They are currently taking some time for themselves in England while her background identity is set up by Oracle."

The Flash blinked. "You mean Bats is back? With that ghost chick?"

"No longer a ghost." Zatanna murmured. She usually did not attend meetings on the WatchTower. "Hermione Granger is flesh and blood. He managed to locate the temple and use the ambrosia to cure her before she died." She smiled wearily. "I was anchoring their return and checked for possible interlopers with Jonzz and Fate. Both are in perfect health, even better than I would have thought."

"It seems there was an unexpected side-effect to Batman's journey. He developed the ability to practice wand-magic like his local counterpart. It remains to be seen if the ability does not fade in time but everything indicates it is permanent."

Diana nodded slightly. Gifts freely given could not be taken back easily. "Has he said anything about his immediate plans?"

"Just to not expect him for the next year." Jonzz smirked, an unexpected expression.

Superman became more concerned. "What aren't you telling us Jonzz?"

But Jonzz refused to answer. "Nothing negative Kal-el. Just listen to the news coming out of Gotham City in the next few weeks."

...ooOoo...

Alfred Pennyworth sipped a cup of tea. A familiar action that always failed to distract him. It had been six weeks since Master Bruce had left on his quest, two since he returned safely. Even now Alfred was astounded by what his first charge had revealed to him. About his Guardian Angel. Now more than ever Alfred was certain that there would be more love and happiness in the lives of all of his charges. If Master Bruce could get it after so many years so would the others.

"Hello Alfred."

"Miss Gordon." Alfred looked up with a questioning expression. "Tea?"

"No thanks. I just finished setting up the history as Bruce asked me to. It was not too difficult given she really existed at one point in this dimension. Many people choose to go off track and live untraceably for various personal reasons."

"Would you care to share the bare bones of her history with me?"

"I managed to insert a few records in various databases and alter others. Hermione Granger did not die in the car crash with her parents but was taken in by a reclusive aunt who feared losing the last of her family. The aunt lived on an isolated estate with elderly retainers who have since died. The family doctor did not believe in keeping computer records and his office was destroyed in a fire a few years after he died. Hermione Granger rarely interacted with the local community and was privately tutored until her aunt died leaving her an emancipated teenager with a very generous trust fund. She sat the standard O-levels and A-levels in Britain without ever attending formal classes and passed with Honours. She chose not to complete a university degree, instead she audited classes as she travelled around the world, moving too frequently to put roots and be remembered.

"They staged a first meeting in a Mayfair restaurant two days ago where Bruce Wayne asked a complete stranger out to dance. The press picked up on it and ran with the story. Bruce Wayne's latest interest in a fresh English rose."

Alfred nodded. "Did Master Bruce mention when they would be returning?"

"Three weeks. Bruce wants to make his interest clear in public so when they return together it is can be passed off."

Alfred nodded slowly. "Good. I would like to meet Miss Hermione. She must be quite formidable if she kept tabs on Master Bruce all these years." He shook his head slightly. "I suppose this does explain some of his luck. He literally had a Guardian Angel looking out for him."

"Yeah. One willing to defy the Fates to stay with him." Barbara spoke wistfully.

Alfreds black eyes sharpened. "If Master Bruce has someone I'm certain all of you do as well. You just need to keep an open eye out for it."

Barbara blinked and nodded.

...ooOoo...

Alfred smiled as he watched couple make their way through the crowd of reporters and to the limo. Once the doors were closed, Bruce Wayne sighed in relief and relaxed.

"The penthouse, Alfred."

The butler resisted the urge to speak and pry out details. There would be time for it later. And he was glad for his restraint.

It took two hours and three pots of tea for the whole story and plans to be shared.

"We are married by the laws of her society." Bruce pushed back his sleeve and thrust his wrist forward. The action was mimicked by his companion. There was a faint tracery of gold symbols etched into the skin. "Marriage runes. An unbreakable bonding with some interesting side-effects, a blessing from the Powers."

"It is rare." Hermione expanded. "Usually the ribbons are tied and the rings/bracelets are slipped on by the elder acting as priest. In our ceremony... magic acted."

"It is not something I am displeased with." Bruce added hastily. "It is just that it greatly accelerates the timetable. We can't wait three months like we originally planned before announcing our engagement and another three months for a society wedding. It is too stressful being away from her for too long." Then he smirked. "But I can't complain about the other side-effects."

Hermione blushed and punched his arm before she hesitantly explained. "The Fates are pushing hard. The ceremony keyed our chemistries to match perfectly. Every time I am around Bruce I know exactly where he is and what he is feeling just like he does for me. If we've been apart for too long I can barely stop myself from jumping him!" She explained in mortified tones.

"Zatanna and Fate both agree it is a chemically triggered urge that has just been amplified by the Powers. It should subside once Hermione conceives. Currently we are taking precautions to keep the gossips from counting days when it is publicized."

Alfred hesitated. "And is it in your plans? Having a child is not something to be taken lightly or on a whim Master Bruce."

The younger man's expression turned serious. "This is definitely not a whim Alfred." He squeezed his wife's hand. "I've always been afraid of having hostages to fate because so many I loved died or left me. I had always believed Hermione would always be there. When I was told she wouldn't be… I realised just how important she is to me. I don't want to wait and risk regrets. She knows what I do every night and she has never flinched."

Then Hermione spoke quietly but firmly. "Gotham and the world need Batman. But Batman and Bruce Wayne need me. When I was given orders to reincarnate, the only thing I could think of was Bruce. I wanted to see him. I wanted to be with him. I know there is a possibility that he will not return one day, but women all over the world face that risk: the wives and mothers of police officers, firefighters, foreign-aid workers, soldiers… Even if we have only a few years together the memories would be treasured for the rest of my living days. And I will know we will be reunited in the afterlife."

Alfred put down his cup. His hands were trembling from the intensity of her words, her passion and certainty.

"Then for what it is worth you have my blessing. You will have to give me a few hours to arrange for extra wardrobes and storage space in all the Master Suites. I'll make arrangements for a few personal shoppers to fill Miss Hermione's wardrobe with the basics."

...ooOoo...

Alfred smirked as he set out plates for the children wandering into the more intimate kitchen dining table. Cassandra was blushing slightly, though Tim was far redder and evident in his embarrassment.

He waited until they poured orange juice for themselves before speaking.

"Should I ask what has caused your discomfort?"

The pair shifted uneasily before Tim broke.

"We saw Bruce and Hermione in the dojo. They were… busy."

Alfred raised a faint brow. "Oh? Master Bruce does wake up early to practice if he didn't have a late night."

Tim glowered. "Trust me Alfred, he had a late night, an early morning, and a not-so early morning getting lucky."

Cassandra looked faintly bewildered. "I never knew a non-meta woman could be so flexible."

Alfred snorted. "You are flexible, correct?"

"Yes. But I'm a trained fighter."

"So is Miss Hermione. You've just never seen her fight. You formed the mistaken impression that since she is a magic user she cannot fight with her fists."

"Yeah, but she was dead! Or very close to it. Surely she'd need physiotherapy and time to retrain her body to be that limber!" Tim protested.

"Oh I don't know. It felt pretty limber to me last night." A low, gravelly voice spoke with unexpected insinuating humour.

The three turned to the archway entrance where Bruce and Hermione stood, hair and skin damp from a recent shower and dressed in loose jogging suits and running shoes.

The couple ignored the ensuing squawks and blushes to eat a slice of toast and a few spoonfuls of scrambled eggs while Cassandra found her nerve first.

"How?" She wanted to know. "I thought you were in a coma, your body deteriorating."

Hermione smiled. "I was. Hebe's Blessing restores the body to its optimal condition based on what the soul believes. I had spent decades seeing and doing some pretty unbelievable things so my definition of optimal was pretty up there. I know just what the human mind can be capable off, how it can push the body through self-imposed limits."

Tim recovered his tongue. "Are you going to keep acting like this?" He tossed a copy of the Gotham Star on the table. The headline picture and news were clear. 'Gotham's Prince picks an English Rose.' There were pictures of Bruce and Hermione at several recent events in Gotham, including the one they attended last night, an opera opening night. Bruce arched an inquiring brow. Tim fumed before continuing. "From what I saw today morning I think the gossip reporter was pretty accurate in her speculations. You two did not bother to socialize during intervals. In fact, you locked the doors to the Wayne Opera Box and drew curtains over the balcony. Kat Travis speculates the two of you were enjoying more than just the opera last night. To be more precise, each other."

To Tim's shock Bruce just grinned widely. "I'm afraid to live down to your expectations but that is just what we did. Enjoy each other." Then he burst out laughing at Tim's horrified expression.

Hermione was blushing but she refused to look away as she looked Tim square in the face. She had watched the young boy grow from a pre-teen, seen him at his best and his worst. Even though he had never known she had watched over him because he was important to Bruce and therefore to her as well.

"I won't apologize for anything because I'm not sorry. The only thing I can say is that our more public escapades will be less likely once I conceive. Biology and magic are working against us, sensitizing and increasing our desires. It does concern me; I am worried about Bruce being distracted out in the field."

"Which is why I've decided to take a break from the cape. At least until Hermione conceives." Bruce added soberly. "I'm going to use that time to expand on my magical training and incorporating it into my fighting style. Develop new strategies, modifying current plans to accommodate for my new skills."

Tim nodded slowly. Every time there was a major change due to injury or new powers, the caped crowd knew it was best to test and find the limits in a controlled environment rather than in the field against an enraged opponent.

"I don't understand how well you are taking it Bruce. I thought you didn't trust magic."

"I don't trust most magic-users." Bruce corrected mildly between sips of orange juice. "Magic is a tool or skill, and just like anything else and it can be used against you. Formal ritual casting is too vulnerable to interference. Spells can be twisted by an opponent who knows more. And most of the magic users we've come across are clinically insane, drunk on their own power and perceived superiority."

"It is the same in my old world." Hermione added sadly. "Those with power see nothing wrong in abusing it. However, there have always been those who felt otherwise and fought against abusive magic users. Those conflicts laid the groundwork for a tradition of ethics, a guideline for what is acceptable and what isn't, laws and suitable punishments. They may not have been fairly enforced or practiced but they existed.

"Right now there is no similar guideline because blanket laws and protocols do not work for metas. Each case is different, since metas with similar powers cannot always be countered the same way. Each and every meta faces the same struggle as every magic user, the temptation to use their powers for their personal gain, making others pay financially, emotionally, or physically. They've forgotten or ignored the old creeds from a time when magic was treated with proper reverence, a religion, a gift from the Higher Powers. And ye harm none, do what ye will, Lest in self-defence it be, Ever mind the Rule of Three, What thou sends forth returns to thee."

The teens nodded soberly and listened as Bruce picked up the thread.

"I spent several months travelling and observing different magical societies. Many of the books I brought back contain the principles and theories of many magical philosophers on controversial and difficult issues. I hope they will help develop guidelines in how the JLA will work in the future. If all goes well, Bruce Wayne might start campaigning for similar legislatorial changes.

"All we can do is our best and hope things turn out fine. I still believe in planning for the worst... but with Hermione around I feel more confident that it will not be needed."

Alfred smiled internally. Just a few days and already her presence had wrought a major change in Master Bruce's pessimistic philosophy.

...ooOoo...

Lucius Fox gave up on trying to go over the latest project expansion plans. He put his fork down and focused on his working lunch companion feeling very grateful they were in one of the few private corporate dining rooms in Wayne Towers.

"Tell me Bruce, are you serious about her?"

Bruce Wayne blinked mildly. "About who, Lucius?"

"Hermione Granger."

The mildness faded to leave steely intent. "As a heart attack. I'm going to marry her, Lucius. Alfred and the others know and have accepted my decisions somewhat reluctantly though I am confident they will come around when they get to know her better."

Lucius blinked. "Have you asked Her?"

Bruce was amused. "Of course. She said yes the moment I asked her. We've been keeping it private to let the reporters adjust to our relationship first."

Lucius nodded slowly. "All right. When is the wedding?"

"Four weeks."

Lucius sputtered. "Excuse me?!?"

"Four weeks." Bruce replied patiently. "It is going to be a private ceremony with only few people attending. There will of course be a bigger reception later on."

"Bruce, you can't be serious! You've only known her a few weeks!"

Bruce smiled knowingly. "But it feels like I've known her a lifetime. She is the one Lucius! I could live three lifetimes and never meet another like her." He covered the older man's hand with his. "Lucius, I'd like you to be there."

Lucius resisted the urge to argue. Once Bruce got an idea about things outside of business matters, he rarely let go. "I will. But I want to meet her first."

"Of course. I'm having a private dinner for a few friends this Thursday at the Manor. Bring your wife with you."

---

Lucius was pleasantly surprised when he finally met the polite, unaffected young woman who clearly adored Bruce and saw more than just his public playboy façade. The intimate sense of 'knowing' and understanding acceptance between the couple was undeniable.

By the end of the evening, Lucius Fox knew Bruce Wayne had made a good choice; much better than his previous serious interests. And he understood why Bruce was pushing so hard for a quick marriage ceremony, unwilling to delay and risk losing her.

Over dessert, he gave his own suggestions on planning a quick wedding and a private getaway before returning to Gotham for a more elaborate reception.

...ooOoo...

Hermione Wayne slowly made her way down the carved stone steps leading to the Bat Cave. There were of course faster ways including discreet elevators but there was something about using the stairs that made her feel nostalgic. In the early days before Bruce installed the elevator these steps were the primary entry/exit point into the Manor.

She smiled as Alfred poured her a cup of rose-hip tea. Ever since her pregnancy was confirmed, the butler had been very strict about her diet and what she consumed. Bruce had resumed his mantle as Batman though this investigation into the rash of gang fights involving explosives and guns had Robin and Batgirl stumped. Stumped enough to get Batman involved.

"I don't understand it!" Robin leaned back in his swivel chair messing his hair. "I've run all the usual search protocols. There are no arms shipments missing in or around Gotham. Or anywhere on the East Coast. I've included other regions but most stolen shipments have been tentatively traced and accounted for by the JLA and law enforcement. I don't understand where all the ammo and explosives are coming from, or how it is getting into the hands of the local gangs!"

Hermione moved slowly over to study the screen displaying a map of Gotham and several locations marked indicating recent mob clashes.

"It is odd. They are not using the latest generation of explosives technology." Batman murmured. He was dressed in full gear though his cowl was pushed back.

"How far back do your search protocols go?" Everyone turned to stare at Hermione. By silent consensus, she did not usually participate in the investigations or research. Oracle and Alfred or Robin did that. Mainly because they knew she would have other time commitments in the near future when her pregnancy advanced and she gave birth.

"Three years." Robin admitted. "Long enough for some of the heat to die off for the stock to be unloaded. Any longer newer more profitable models come on the market."

"But you said it yourself. They are using old models." She countered. "Fifty-third Avenue and Twenty-second Road. The Green Jays used to hold the area before they were absorbed by the Nox Arrows. They used to work for Rupert Thorne. Five years ago they carried out a hijacking."

Robin frowned and pulled up the appropriate files. "Yeah. Most of the gang were killed by Smilex when the Joker escaped around the same time. The survivors did not know where the shipments were stashed. But the police searched the area thoroughly! Batman and Nightwing did a run of all the warehouses and factories nearby!"

Hermione bumped her hip against Robin's chair to get access to a keyboard and began going through the files and pulling up schematics.

"Perhaps not carefully enough."

One push of a button produced a digital photograph of a massive iron grate covering a sewage pipe opening large enough for a man to walk into without bending.

"The City Council had plans to expand the sewage sanitation plants underground. There are several chambers attached to the sewage system that are quite large and not too damp. Most of them were destroyed during Batman's fight with Killer Croc though some might still be intact. There used to be an industrial plant near the Green Jays old grounds. It may have access to those chambers." She straightened and stepped away. "I suggest you go and have a look."

Then she moved to commandeer an empty chair and concentrated on enjoying her tea.

Robin blinked and glanced at Batman who nodded in affirmative so with a shrug he began pulling the needed files and making appropriate plans. Twenty minutes later, he and Batgirl were out of the Cave and in the field.

Hermione tilted her head to one side. "Aren't you going to join them?"

"They will be fine. They'll do a quick scouting run before moving in. If the situation is more involved they'll call in."

She smiled teasingly. "You're cutting the apron strings. I'm so proud of you!"

He growled menacingly. It just made her laugh. Laugh as she stood, danced over on light feet and threw herself onto his lap wrapping her arms around his neck to kiss him soundly.

"I'm so proud of you!" She repeated between giggles. "Just keep it up."

He sighed. "I'm still worried about them."

"But you are letting them act on their own. You are not following them, just in case. It is showing a certain degree of confidence in their skills and capabilities."

"I've never doubted that! I would never let them out if I doubted their skill!"

"All the skill in the world can fail against the worst sort of luck. But now you are willing to let them handle their own luck."

Batman thought hard before answering. "Yes. Yes, I am."

"And why is that?"

"Because I will not be around forever. And all young ones will have to leave the nest at some point." He made a sound of old pain. "I learned that with Dick."

Hermione rested her head against his chest nestled under his chin. "Now I am certain you'll make a wonderful father. Over protective yes, but also willing to let go. That is important. Children must make their own mistakes and learn from them."

Alfred quietly retreated, leaving the couple in the Bat Cave.

The next morning at breakfast, Alfred heard more about events from the previous night. According to Master Tim, Batman had not followed Robin and Batgirl. The pair had located and secured the weapons cache before calling in the police.

"She _knew,_ Alfred. And she had never accessed the case files before today. The only way she could have known is if Batman had told her, or she had seen it happen for herself. Given how close-mouthed Batman can be I'm leaning towards the latter." Tim concluded.

"It does lend some credence to her story of being a Guardian Angel. She must have seen and heard a lot as an unseen observer." Alfred pointed out.

...ooOoo...

TBC…


	5. Last Words

Summary: A final conversation with certain dearly departed souls. A meeting that heals old wounds.

* * *

**...ooO Last Words Ooo...**

Hermione smiled as she looked down upon two well-tended gravestones in a deserted cemetery. Accommodating her shifting center of gravity, she carefully pushed herself off her knees and dusted the leaves and dirt from her long skirts. Bruce made it a ritual to visit his parents' graves at least once a month and on their anniversaries, he would try to reserve the whole day to remember and mourn. But Hermione wasn't here to mourn. She was here to celebrate life.

"What are you doing here? You told Alfred you were staying at Penthouse for the night." The harsh raspy growl of the Dark Knight broke the late night quiet.

Hermione stared up at the cowled, stern visage but did not flinch from Batman's looming presence. "I made some plans. I want to tell your parents what is happening in your life, in our lives." She patted her rounded waist.

Batman frowned. "But why tonight?"

The answer was short and succinct. "Samhain."

His eyes widened in comprehension. "Day of the Dead. The night when the Veil separating this world and the next is thinnest."

She nodded. "Yes. I set up alarm wards around the cemetery and stronger ones around the Wayne Family plot. There are several notice-me-nots and obscuring charms around us. No one will see what happens tonight. I will take them down in a few days; in the daytime, with Alfred around."

After some hesitation, he relaxed and moved closer to her. "I wondered why you wanted to attend the City Halloween bash. Dressed as a witch of all things." He added indicating the long black silk-blend robes that flowed over the cream linen tunic-style top and burgundy ankle-length woollen skirts. In addition, she carried a gnarled staff capped by a large fake white crystal and wore a wide-brimmed pointed black hat set on top of her loose brown curls.

She wrapped her hand around his gloved one and drew him closer. "Tonight is the perfect night to speak to them. If the dead ever hear us, they do on Samhain."

He hesitated. "Could you start?"

She was startled for an instant. "Of course." She moved to stand at the foot of the pair of graves before she focused her magic. There was no spell for what she wanted, just her heart's desire. 'Please work.' She squeezed her eyes shut. 'Please work.'

A soft silver shimmer surrounded her. Batman watched. He did not recognize what she was doing but he knew better than to interrupt.

The glow faded and Hermione began to talk.

"Hello. I'm not sure if you know of me, but my name is Hermione. My parents were dentists, Dan and Jane Granger. They are dead now, so if you meet them please tell them I love them and I am sorry for obliviating their memories. I don't know if you know, but I am married to your son Bruce. We are expecting our first child in the New Year. If I ramble or repeat what you already know, just bear with me. I don't know what Bruce has told you about his life but I'm certain he has hidden a lot. He is a very proud man. Not the sort to trumpet his achievements; so I will for him.

"I've known Bruce for years. I even saw the both of you once or twice. He was a happy boy so I didn't want to mess things up by interfering so I kept my distance. But when both of you died I knew I couldn't keep silent. I broke the unspoken rule of all Guardians and revealed myself. It surprised me that Bruce accepted me as well as he did, but I suppose he was young— his mind did not have the same self-imposed limits as most adults or mundanes. If you don't know, mundanes are humans without metapowers or magic. Just ordinary folk.

"If you are wondering how a Guardian ended up returning to life and marrying your son talk to Severus Snape or Nicholas Flamel. Ask around for the Hogwarts Founders and they'll be able to tell you all. I'm not the perfect debutante you would have wanted for your son. I am a witch, a magic-user who primarily uses wands to channel magic. I fought in a war and I have killed. I broke a lot of big rules and little ones to defend my beliefs and loved ones. It didn't matter in the end because I died. I was fortunate enough to be offered a position as a Guardian-trainee instead of moving onto my final reward or reincarnation.

"My first and most important charge was your son. I didn't quite see why until I watched him find his calling and grow into his destiny. He chose to act when the law didn't or couldn't, to challenge the corruption and moral decay in Gotham City. It is a battle I don't see an end to, not in my lifetime, but if we fight there will be an end, hopefully in the lifetime of our children or grandchildren. In case you are wondering he did not choose to work within the system by studying law to become a DA, a judge, a legislator, or even a policeman. He works outside the law. The public and the press either hate or love him. The politicians and law are wary of his tactics. The criminals fear him. Most would call him a vigilante but to me he will always be a hero… My Dark Knight.

"Batman is important to Gotham and the world. I know he risks injury and death every time he dons the suit and cape and goes out; but I also know how important it is to him to stop those the police cannot. And he is not alone. There are several costumed vigilantes all over the world. They formed a group called the Justice League and share resources. In his solo-days, I was terrified whenever he went out but now I feel more comfortable. He has a team: partners he trained to his exact standards. He has outside backup he can call in if he needs help.

"But Batman is not all there is to him. There is Bruce. He is my friend, my confidant. Even when he knew nothing of magic, he listened to my theories on spell-craft and made valid, insightful observations. He is the humanitarian who donates millions every year to various foundations and charities to make the lives of ordinary people better. He is the business man who is willing to risk fortunes for new scientific discoveries and development that could benefit all of mankind. The philanthropist willing to throw it all behind what he believes in. There was a period of time when the United States abandoned Gotham City; it became No Man's Land. But Bruce refused to abandon his home. He worked as Batman and Bruce Wayne to bring order and government back to Gotham City.

"He has spent nearly all his life mourning the both of you. If there is ever a time he needs to hear you it is now, when he is about to move to a new phase of his life… fatherhood. He has been a big brother, an uncle, a guardian, a godfather, a fosterer. He has raised four troubled teens, lost one of them to violence, but he has never been father to a baby. He doesn't tell me but I know he is worried about the first months, the early years, the terrible twos. He is worried about being responsible for someone so completely dependent upon his care. He wants to be a good father, one who will be there each evening to help his own son or daughter with homework, to explore museums and go on camping and fishing trips, like you did for him Doctor Wayne.

"Some nights he asks me if I want him to hang up the cape and each time I give him the same answer. No. There are no guarantees in life. The two of you were innocent bystanders and it didn't keep you from being killed. Besides, it would destroy something in him to read the news and find out about something he could have prevented if he had gone out, if those he trained and fought besides were injured seriously and he was not there. Now when that happens he still hurts but it is easier to remind him that he is only one man; that he is doing what he can one case at a time. That all I want for him is to do the best he can and to return to me each night. The crime fighter is just as important as the businessman, the philanthropist, the humanitarian, the son, the father, the husband.

"He is a good man, Mr and Mrs Wayne. He might have made a few choices you may not approve but he did the best he could. He is someone you would be proud of." She concluded fiercely.

"You are right. I am proud of him. I am so proud of my boy." A husky female voice spoke unsteadily, slightly choked to control her emotions.

Batman and Hermione turned in unison in the direction of the teary female voice. An ancient yew tree. Beneath it stood four translucent figures, two men and two women. One couple were dressed in clothing three decades out of fashion. The man looked like an older version of Bruce Wayne with a moustache dressed in an old-fashioned dinner suit. He was stern-looking though he clearly was making a lot of effort to control himself. The woman had light brown hair and dark blue eyes and was dressed in a modest tailored suit and pearls. She was visibly crying soundlessly. The other man and women were dressed in more modern clothes. The woman had curly dark brown hair and a slim athletic figure clad in fitted jeans and a suede vest over a long-sleeved t-shirt. The second man had light blonde hair cropped short, and was dressed in khaki slacks and a tailored shirt. He was slightly shorter than his companion in her wedge suede heels.

Hermiones eyes went wide. "Mummy? Daddy?"

"Mother? Father?" Then Batman caught himself and tensed.

As though understanding Thomas Wayne spoke. "We can't stay for long. This is a one time opportunity to say goodbye properly." He looked at Hermione. "We know it all. Our only regret is we never got the chance to meet you in the flesh, to watch Bruce grow up, to get to know you in person." He stared his son straight in the eye. "Bruce, I might disagree with you at times, but you are your own man. You are not my duplicate. I never wanted you to match my footsteps exactly. I always wanted you to grow into your own man. Be someone who we could be proud of. And you have."

Batman reached up and pulled his cowl off. He could not stop the tears that escaped his eyes. "Thank you Father."

"Hermione? We completely understand and forgive your actions. You were trying to keep us safe. You made the best decision you could based on what information you had." Jane Granger spoke reassuringly. "You were just a child. It was criminal that you and poor Harry had to fight for adults who persisted in remaining blind. But we raised you to follow your conscience, to stand up for what you believe in. How could we fault you for doing just that?" Jane Granger smiled through her tears. "Your father and I are proud of what you've accomplished. I only regret I will never get to hold my grandchildren."

Dan Granger stared at the costumed and caped man standing next to his daughter.

"Your mother said everything I wanted to say so I won't bother repeating her. I only have one thing to say to your husband." He glared at Bruce Wayne. "You'd better treat her right of I'll find some way to haunt you."

"Daddy!" Hermione was mortified.

He ignored her protest and continued. "Your friends back home are doing fine. Last we saw, Harry Potter was dating Tracey Davis and enjoying the chaos he was creating, and Luna Lovegood was engaged to Marius Wayne. I didn't bother looking in on the red-heads. Their youngest children caused you too much grief."

A faint smile stretched Bruce Wayne's lips. "Mr. Granger, I vowed to love, honour, and cherish her and all that we share. And I will."

Dan stared hard before giving a grudging nod of acknowledgement.

Then the elder Waynes turned to Hermione who had to resist the urge to step back and away from the intensity of their stares. Martha Wayne was openly crying insubstantial tears at this point.

"Thank you. Thank you for all you did for our son. You saved his spirit. You made him happy. You're making us grand-parents!" The last was a wail.

"Martha! Stop crying. You're making the poor girl uncomfortable with all of your carrying on." Thomas Wayne rumbled.

Martha Wayne produced a handkerchief and wiped away her tears. "Okay. Okay. I'm calm." Her eyes were very intense as they bored into Hermione. "I know how loyal and protective you are of those you care for, and all you did for Bruce, so I won't bother with any of that. I want you to do something else for me.

"I want all the children to get a chance to read all the first-edition classics Thomas bought for me; the collection that is currently on display. Books are meant to be read, not kept in a museum glass case. I'm not sure if they survived, but Alfred might know about my old sewing kit with my knitting and crochet needles and patterns. I want them to be given to the first child to take an interest in crafts. I also had several sets of jewellery. I don't know how many girls you'll have but I'd like each one to get one set of semi-precious stones on her twelfth birthday; the blue topaz to the eldest, the garnets to the second, the citrines to the third. The pearls will go to the eldest girl on her sixteenth birthday, opals to the second, amethyst to the third. The diamonds, rubies, sapphires, emeralds will go to the wives of the boys and I am including your wards Richard and Timothy among them. If they don't settle down just split them between the daughters or any grandchildren. Give Cassandra my amber and jade sets as soon as you get back. I don't want any jewellery to sit in a museum or some vault gathering dust." She glared at Bruce.

Bruce choked on the litany of orders and gaped helplessly at his father who shrugged in commiseration but said nothing.

Hermione smiled brilliantly. "You knit? I'll probably get use out of the needles then." She confided. "I knitted a lot of hats and scarves when I was in school."

Martha Wayne smiled warmly. "I know dear. We saw what you were trying to do in your school days." She shuddered slightly. "What a horrible society. To openly condone slavery and do nothing to stop the mistreatment of sentient beings."

Hermione sobered. "I know, Mrs. Wayne."

"But you did not let it suck you in. You remained true to your principles." Martha Wayne nodded firmly. "You are a loyal friend and a wonderful wife. You'll be a good mother as well. Just remain true to yourself."

Then they started fading.

"We'll always be proud of you Bruce. Don't be afraid to let others into your heart. Life is risk." Martha Wayne spoke in a trembling voice.

"Do the best you can. It is all any father can ask of his son."

"We love you Hermione. Try not to get caught up handling everything by yourself. You can ask others for help." Daniel Granger's voice sounded hollow and distant.

"And remember to teach your kids good dental hygiene. Brush and floss after meals. Try to avoid sticky sweets." Jane Granger's voice was teary and teasing.

And with that, all four spirits faded into non-existence.

Hermione burst into tears as she buried her face in her husband's spandex clad chest. "She would always tell me that whenever I left on an overnight trip. When I was in Hogwarts, they would always send care packages and letters. Mum would always add that reminder as a post script." She explained.

Bruce wrapped his arms around her tightly. "I got to see them. They are proud of me." He whispered.

They stood like that for several minutes, remembering the experience and words, and mourning the dead and lost.

"If you want you can add a marker for your parents in the Wayne family plot."

She tightened her grip around him. "Thank you." He felt the child within her shift and kick against him. Then she laughed.

"How many children does your mother expect us to have?"

Bruce winced. "I don't know. She seemed to look forward to granddaughters."

"Probably because she didn't get to have daughters of her own." Hermione speculated. Then she glanced up through thick lashes. "Do you wish to fulfill her fond desires?"

He swooped down and captured her mouth in a thorough kiss. When he finally lifted his head, he smirked.

"Gladly."

...ooOoo...

Alfred Pennyworth smiled when the doctors announced the arrival of Hermione and Bruce's child and invited the crowd of eagerly waiting friends and family to join the new parents.

It was not a usual procedure to invite such a large crowd of well-wishers to meet a new mother and child but this was not a typical case. Bruce Wayne had practically financed the expansion and upgrading of Gotham General's maternity, neo-natal and pediatric units when he and his wife announced they were expecting a child.

"Minerva." Hermione Wayne announced sweaty and tired from the birthing but absolutely radiant. "Minerva Joycelyn Wayne. Our little Joy."

Alfred nodded once. "Miss Joycelyn. I am certain your mother and father would be pleased at being grandparents to such a wonderful little girl."

To his surprise, the reference to his parents did not make Master Bruce subdued and broody. Instead, he smiled and nodded his agreement.

"You know what, Alfred, I'm absolutely certain you are right." He looked down at the small blanket-swathed form of his daughter and felt his heart swell with pride and love. "Mother would have been thrilled to have a granddaughter."

Hermione laughed softly. "I'm sure she is. Both of your parents and mine are probably celebrating wherever they are right now." A more thoughtful expression crossed her face. "I wonder if Severus will call me Hermione if we ever see him."

Then they were distracted by the well-wishers and inquiries from the nursing staff.

---

Somewhere else, two sets of deceased parents toasted the arrival of a new baby girl, a shared granddaughter named Minerva Joycelyn Wayne. With them was one particular spirit, a deceased Potions Master and old mentor of their daughter and daughter-in-law.

Severus Snape raised a glass and smiled faintly.

"I don't see any need for us to ever meet in person but if we do I will definitely offer my congratulations, Hermione. You've more than Exceeded Expectations. Outstanding."

...ooOoo...

The End.

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AN: That is it! Absolutely no plans for a prequel/sequel/backstory. I have other Hermione/Bruce fics I'm working on and I'm determined to finish them before I start posting.


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